


We'll Steal this Moment and Call it Love

by anextraordinarymuse (December_Daughter)



Series: Paint By Numbers: Prompts from the Inbox [15]
Category: The 100
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 07:43:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6745396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/December_Daughter/pseuds/anextraordinarymuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "Can I request a fic post all this ALIE garbage where marcus takes abby out on a proper date?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	We'll Steal this Moment and Call it Love

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time I opened my inbox for prompts.
> 
> Then this happened.
> 
> Note: set post-season three.

The people of Arkadia called their elected leader Chancellor, but in the aftermath of ALIE - in the new reality and restructuring of their world - there was no denying that the word had lost some of its power. Commander; Chancellor; the positions remained, because people needed a leader, but there was an overlap now that hadn’t existed before.

Still, Marcus had been unanimously elected to the position, and his first act as Chancellor was to declare the first rest day the people of Arkadia had ever had.

“No work,” he’d told his people. “Just rest, and a day to spend in the company of our loved ones. We’ve more than earned it.”

Then he’d promptly asked Abby Griffin on a date. She’d almost declined. ALIE had done a number on the good doctor (on all of them) and muddied the waters between Marcus and Abby. Marcus, however, was determined not to let that stand.

“Date” was something of misnomer on the ground. The six months they’d been on Earth had not given themselves to pursuits such as courtship; romance had no place in the day to day struggle of staying alive.

Which was why this date mattered so much more than Marcus could articulate. It wasn’t just that this was Abby; it was that he might never have a chance like this again.

So, Marcus knocked on her door at the prescribed time of sunset, and determinedly told his heart to get out of his throat and return to its rightful spot in his chest. (It ignored him). He smiled when Abby opened the door. Despite his nervousness, there was no awkwardness between them when she smiled tentatively back.

“Gonna tell me where we’re going?”

Marcus pursed his lips. Then, “Ready?”

“Lead the way.”

He didn’t lead so much as fall into step beside her and navigate their way out the main gate. Abby hesitated at the threshold, months of experience making her cast a wary glance at Marcus’s shoulder and the lack of a weapon located there.

“Pistol,” he assured her. When she still hesitated Marcus lifted the back of his shirt to reveal the grip of the gun.

That was enough to get her going again.

“Who did you leave in charge?” Abby asked as they traveled.

“Everyone.” She stared at him incredulously until he amended his previous statement. “The kids know where we’re going, and I have a radio if they need to reach us.”

The trek was short. They arrived so close to the time that Marcus had wanted that he silently gave himself a pat on the back. He stopped on the edge of the small copse and took in the rays of burnished sunlight that filtered through the boughs above them. He turned to smile at Abby. She had pulled her hair up into its now customary ponytail, but several long strands had been left to frame her face in curls; those curls practically glowed with trapped sunlight.

“What?” she asked when he was still looking at her.

“You’re beautiful.” His mouth quirked up into a smile when a blanket of pale rose spread over her cheeks and nose. Marcus held out a hand. “Come on.”

Abby’s hand was warm when she slipped it into his larger one. Marcus led her to the other side of the clearing and stopped in front of a small pine tree. They didn’t have much daylight left.

Marcus motioned at the tree near his feet. Abby glanced at it, uncomprehending; Marcus waited.

Her face cleared suddenly. “Is that the Eden tree?” Marcus nodded, and she continued. “I had no idea it survived.”

“It didn’t just survive, Abby. It’s flourishing. Ninety seven years in space and a plummet to Earth, and yet it’s still here.”

“Because of you.”

He shook his head. “No. Because of people better than me. Because someone cared enough to make sure it was taken care of; because someone had hope.”

Abby’s expression was hard to read in the last fingers of daylight. She had understood him, if the way she squeezed his hand was anything to go by, but Marcus’s thoughts had turned to the real reason he’d brought them all way out here. He had no way of knowing whether or not this would work. He’d asked Octavia at least a dozen times if she was certain of the time, and the place, and whether or not it was even the right season; she’d assured him that, as far as she knew, everything was in his favor.

The moment of truth was nearly upon them. Marcus found himself hoping in a way that he hadn’t in a long time: _please_ , he asked whatever powers that existed, _please just give us this. Let us have this moment._

Marcus tugged gently on Abby’s hand. The sun had set completely now and her steps were cautious of the uneven terrain that she could no longer see.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Abby’s voice was hushed, and it only added to the knot of excitement that was coalescing in his chest.

“Trust me,” he whispered.

Marcus could just make out the outline of her in the dark. He released her hand and gripped her waist to turn her slowly away from him. When he was sure she was on stable footing, he stepped up into her space and reached a hand around to cover her eyes.

“Marcus.” There was a real edge of fear in her voice.

“Trust me, Abby.” With the hand still on her waist Marcus pulled her back against his chest. He wondered, briefly, if she could feel the erratic flutter of his heart against her spine.

Marcus closed his eyes. They were far enough from camp that no light penetrated the darkness, so it wasn’t necessary, but he did it anyway. Abby knew him better than anyone else in the world; she was the one person that had always seen him for exactly who he was, whether he wanted her to or not. But this was not the same. What he was about to do … it was terrifying in the way that all true leaps of faith were.

He had never allowed himself to be vulnerable the way he was about to, and if he needed to close his eyes before jumping off that cliff, well, who could blame him?

“I was eleven when I lost hope, and forty two when a woman who could barely stand the sight of me gave it back.” Marcus opened his eyes.

In the distance, at the base of a large pine tree, a small spot of light flared to life in the darkness.

“I see the way you look at me, Abby. I see the guilt that you try to hide, and the way you’re careful not to look at my wrists.”

Another bright, blue point of light.

“I know that you’re afraid that ALIE broke something in you, something irreparable. Just like I know that no matter how many times I tell you that I don’t blame you - that it wasn’t your fault, and that I forgive you - you’ll never believe me until you’ve forgiven yourself.”

The clearing lit up suddenly, all around them, and Marcus started to smile.

“I love you, Abby. And I’ll have hope enough for the both of us, for as long as you need me to, because that’s what you’ve given me: hope.” He dropped his hand and turned his face in toward her ear to whisper, “open your eyes.”

Abby did. A luminescent field of blue spread out from them in every direction, and the sight was so unexpected that it took her several moments to realize what she was looking at: “Butterflies.”

None of the textbooks she’d read had ever mentioned anything about the creatures glowing, so it must have been an effect of the radioactive fallout, but even that knowledge didn’t detract from their beauty. Abby had never seen anything like it. She stepped forward and the butterflies at her foot swept up into the night sky like a living curtain.

Marcus smiled as he watched her take another step and then turn back to him. The ethereal blue light that the butterflies emitted was enough to light the hollows beneath her cheekbones as she approached.

Abby reached for his hands and turned them palm up. She raised them high enough that she could see the smooth scar tissue that marked the insides of his wrists; she made herself look at them, and acknowledge how much she hated them - how much she hated that she had been the one to put them there, no matter how indirectly - and then pressed a kiss to each one. When she lifted her eyes to Marcus’s face again they were wet.

“I love you,” she whispered.

This time when she kissed him it was with all the love and tenderness her heart could hold. Marcus met her in kind.


End file.
